An Angel Called Eternity

To Bet on Losing Dogs - Ilias II: The World Under Stagspring

Ilias II: The World Under Stagspring

The Twelfth Day of the Tenth Moon, 873 AD.

Stagspring, Central Owkrestos, Klironomea.

"Evening meal, your Grace."

Lykourgos smiled down at him as he gently placed the plate down on a table to the side of the prince's work desk. It was a good plate of food for someone like him, but by the standards of royalty he'd learned that Lykourgos lived a relatively Kallitrian lifestyle. That was another term he'd learned recently; 'Kallitrian', not in the sense that something was from Kallitrios or was like something from Kallitrios, but in the sense that it was austere and without unnecessary frills.

To him the food looked fucking great, and when he was younger he'd have never dreamed he'd be eating anything even remotely close to something like this. Still, lords and kings lived different lives to the people, and that was the way of the world.

"Come, sit with me. I'll not manage to eat all of this and I could use some company at the moment."

Ilias smiled to himself. At times it was almost like the prince could hear his thoughts.
"Thank you, your Grace. I am a little hungry."

"You're still growing; you're always going to be hungry at the moment. I was when I was your age."

Ilias snorted at the thought of the usually prim and proper Lykourgos gorging himself like a child who'd found his way into a honeycomb, the casual tone of the conversation help settle his nerves a little. He wasn't nervous about serving the prince his food, for he'd been doing that for more than a year at this point, but he was nervous about the job he'd be doing later. Talking with the prince helped alleviate those nerves a little.

Today the prince had been sent a piece of fillet steak which had been seared on the outside and left red in the middle. It was a little bloody for Ilias' preference, but he wasn't going to turn down such a good cut of meat. There was a small pot of thick gravy to the side which the prince poured over the meat and vegetables, separating them out into two roughly equal portions before allowing Ilias to start eating.

Ten years ago he'd been living in poverty and hardship on the streets of northern Anaria, the cold never far from his mind or his skin. Now he was sharing an evening meal in a palace with a prince. Angels, he was glad at how things had changed in his life these last few years. He didn't want to turn out like some of the people he knew from the streets.

"I've received some... odd correspondence from Triarios recently."

Ilias looked up at the prince, who's words had broken the short spell of silence.
"Anything hostile?"

"No, no," the prince chuckled, "nothing like that. Strange, but not hostile. The ex-King of Triarios writes to me as if... well, as if we were old friends. I suppose it makes sense given the circumstances, for I think he wants to make sure our new partnership goes both ways, but it is still a little amusing nonetheless. How about you? How have your days been recently? How have you been faring in Stagspring?"

"The days have been fair enough, but... well," he started as he hastily swallowed a mouthful of steak, "I'll certainly be happy to get back to Anaria. I like it better there. There's no sea here, it's... it's weird. There's no ocean. Just land."

Lykourgos raised an eyebrow at him.
"I wasn't aware you missed the sea that much. Has the ocean been a big part of your life?"

Ilias shrugged.
"I didn't realise it until we left it behind. I don't think I noticed too much during the civil war or this campaign because we've all been very busy, but now that there's a bit of a lull in the activity I feel... I don't know how to describe it, it's just like I'm missing something."